


A Christmas Vision

by RhymePhile



Category: Homicide: Life on the Street, Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Blindness, Canon Crossover, Challenge Response, Christmas, Detectives, Gen, Nostalgia, Police, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-02
Updated: 2006-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-01 19:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/360549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhymePhile/pseuds/RhymePhile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was originally posted for the Silver Bells and Gold Shields challenge in 2006 over at <span class="ljuser ljuser-name_tietuckluv"><a href="http://tietuckluv.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://tietuckluv.livejournal.com/"><b>tietuckluv</b></a></span> where the wisher requested that Elliot meet an interesting stranger -- who may or may not be a Lee Tergesen character from another show -- on a lonely Christmas Eve. Set during the time Elliot Stabler was estranged from his wife and was debating whether or not to sign divorce papers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Christmas Vision

**Author's Note:**

> When this was originally posted, my muse took me in a direction that prevented me from identifying who the Lee character was in the description of the story, and thus, hardly anyone knew who the hell I was writing about. I wanted it to be a surprise, but in retrospect I suppose the _Homicide: Life on the Street_ recurring character of Chris Thormann that Lee played back in 1993 was a tad too obscure. You can familiarize yourself with the character [here](http://www.leetergesen.com/homicide.shtml) if you feel like it.

Elliot straightened the collar of his leather jacket after he put it on, smoothing it down around his neck. A black knit watchcap, jeans, and comfortable sneakers completed his Christmas Eve attire, along with his badge and gun kept discreetly out of sight.

He sighed, glancing around the empty house. He didn't bother with decorations. What was the point? Kathy and the kids were once again spending what used to be his favorite time of year at her mother's, and he wasn't sure when -- or if -- he'd get to see his son and daughters for the holiday.

The thought made him ache. He'd been handling all the joy and good will toward men with remarkable restraint. The Christmas music, the holiday cheer, the smiling kids, the sights and sounds of the City during the holiday season -- he'd been fine until Kathy casually left a message on the machine saying that she wasn't sure when they'd be seeing him.

That's when he lost his patience for the crowds, the tourists, the traffic, and the general all-around fucking _happiness_ going on around him. He had no reason for holiday cheer; shit, he didn't even have a reason to decorate the goddamned _house_ for that matter. Perhaps the neighbors didn't fault him for having the only house on the block that didn't have cheery blinking lights. Maybe they understood that Christmas, for him, had lost all of its charm. It turned into yet another day that reminded him he was a failure at his marriage and at being a father.

He grabbed his cell phone and car keys from the kitchen table and left the darkened house, which was just as cold and quiet on Christmas Eve as it had been every other day of the damn year.

* * *

He decided to leave his car at the squad and take the subway down toward Times Square. To keep his mind off of what wasn't happening with his family, he had volunteered for the Detective Bureau Joint Task Force. Each of the bureau squads -- homicide, robbery, and special victims -- was placing undercover detectives in stores and in highly-trafficked areas to eyeball potential threats. Of course, since he was attached to the SVU with the 16th, Elliot was headed to the giant Toys 'R' Us store in Times Square.

With three floors, it was a kid's dream. A 60-foot Ferris wheel -- inside the store itself -- operated continuously. There were whole sections devoted to action figures, Barbie, and a stuffed animal menagerie large enough to fill a zoo. It was impressive to the many tourists who shopped here as well, based on the glazed-over looks in their eyes. Unfortunately, that sometimes meant parents were less than vigilant about looking after their kids. Thus, Elliot would wander the store for a few hours, keep his eye out for anyone suspicious, and be grateful for the overtime and holiday pay at the end of the month.

The size of the store's staff was impressive, but Elliot had that sixth sense for picking out possible threats to kids: someone who looked out of place or a man with no family around. The signs were obvious.

He walked around the first floor for a while, reassuring himself everything was at its usual last-minute gift-shopping insanity before moving to the second floor.

The kid in him had to admit that this was his favorite area, because it was filled entirely with action figures. It had been Dickie's too -- whenever Elliot brought him to the store the first thing he wanted to do was check out the giant LEGO display of the Millennium Falcon from _Star Wars_. The giant animatronic T-Rex from _Jurassic Park_ was pretty cool too; it was motion-activated so that whenever kids would walk nearby its head would turn and it would roar.

He wandered around the _Star Wars_ section for a while, checking out the full-size Darth Vader suit. Then he crossed near the growling T-Rex, walking down the ramp that led to even more figures.

And that was when he saw him.

He was about Elliot's height, leaning against a wall near the _Transformers_ display. His blonde, close-cropped hair stood out against his black winter jacket. But what really caught Elliot's attention were the dark sunglasses the man wore, and the way his attention seemed to be focused on a group of boys nearby. The oldest boy looked to be about Dickie's age, around 13, and the other two were younger, maybe around 10 and 7.

Not wanting to cause a scene, Elliot circled back the way he had come so he could walk up beside the man in the sunglasses. The man didn't even move when Elliot sidled up alongside him and leaned against the same wall.

"Enjoying the show?"

The man turned his head in Elliot's direction, but didn't remove the glasses. "I'm sorry?"

"The boys over there."

"They're having a good time," the man said, grinning broadly. "I love hearing 'em laugh."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, it reminds me of why I love the Christmas season."

"Really," Elliot said, attempting to get this guy to trip over his words and have him admit why he was actually there, "why is that?"

The blonde man smiled wistfully. "It makes me feel good to be alive. Everyone is full of hope...and love."

"Everyone, or just little boys?"

The man tensed. "Huh?"

Elliot leaned closer and touched the man's arm. "I see how you're staring at those kids, perv motherfucker," he growled, voice low and threatening. "The dark glasses aren't fooling anyone."

"What the hell are you..."

"We're gonna walk your degenerate ass out of this store and away from those little boys. I'm a cop."

"So was I, asshole," the man bit back, pulling out of Elliot's grasp.

Elliot blinked, confused. "You were a..."

"Yeah, I was a cop! And I wasn't staring at those kids. I wasn't staring at _anything_."

Turning, the man pulled the sunglasses from his face and stared right at Elliot.

When Elliot stared back, he saw only a soft, unfocused look in the other man's striking blue eyes. The man's glance drifted back and forth over Elliot's face, as if sensing where he should place his attention based on Elliot's voice. Then Elliot noticed the scar at the man's temple, shaped in a perfect circular pattern, which could only have been made by a gunshot wound. Elliot glanced between the man's blank eyes and the indentation on his brow, and came to a sickening conclusion.

"I'm blind," the man hissed at Elliot. He pointed to the angry mark on his head. "Courtesy of a skel who took the opportunity to _shoot me in the head_ fourteen years ago when I tried to stop him while on patrol. I'm no perv, man. Those are _my_ kids."

Elliot winced and backed away. "Shit, I'm so sorry..."

"Just keep your voice down," the man answered crossly, turning his head toward the sound of his kids. "I don't want to upset the boys."

Elliot couldn't tear his eyes away from the mark on the man's head. It made his stomach roil. There but for the grace of God go I, he thought.

"I--I saw you standing there with the glasses on, and it looked like you were watching those kids..."

"What kind of half-assed cop are you?"

"A detective, actually," Elliot sighed. "Special Victims."

The man placed the sunglasses back over his eyes. "I hope you don't snag all your perps this way. I might have serious doubts about the NYPD."

"Maybe you should anyway. God, I completely fucked this up."

"I can't argue with that."

"Really, I apologize. I was just going on instinct." He held out his hand, and then realized stupidly the man couldn't see his gesture. "Uh, would you mind if I shook your hand to make up for it? I hope I didn't screw up the nice time you were having with your kids."

"Mm," the man grunted, as if considering, and then held out his hand. "I guess if I were to look at it from your point of view, a guy with sunglasses on in a toy store might look a little suspicious."

Elliot shook the man's hand and then knocked the back of his head against the wall. "Or maybe I'm just looking for things that aren't there."

"What do you mean?"

"To me," he sighed dejectedly, "everyone looks like a child molester, even on Christmas Eve. How pathetic is that?"

"Sounds like you've been in Special Victims too long."

Elliot nodded, forgetting himself again. "It goes in cycles. There are days when I don't want to drag my ass into work to look at another report of a rape or someone hurting a child, and then there are days when I'm testifying in court and we put someone away. The balance is what keeps me sane."

"Maybe you need to take a break. Spend time with your family."

Elliot scoffed.

"From the sound of that I don't even need to see your reaction. Let me guess," the man said. "Divorced?"

"Not yet. We're getting there. I just haven't been able to bring myself to sign the papers."

"Sorry to hear it."

"Me too," Elliot said sullenly, watching the man's kids playing with the toys on display. "What are your boys' names?"

The blonde man smiled. "I'm Chris, by the way. Chris Thormann." He held out his hand again.

"Right, sorry. I'm Elliot," Elliot answered, shaking the man's hand. "Detective Stabler to creepy guys in sunglasses." He put the smile into his voice when he said it.

Chris laughed. "Good to meet you. Stephen is the oldest of my boys. He just turned 13. Total ball-buster, turning the girls' heads already. The middle one is Trevor. He's going to be 11, and the little guy is Jeremy, almost 7." He beamed with fatherly pride, casting his head in the direction of his children. "Eva has some last-minute stuff to get. I'm official babysitter."

"They're all really..." Elliot caught himself, suddenly realizing the age of the oldest boy and that Chris said he had been blinded fourteen years ago.

"Yeah, they're handsome. Eva tells me all the time," Chris said, sensing the hesitation in Elliot's voice. "It's okay." Chris pointed to his head. "Eva found out she was pregnant with Steve when I was still recovering from this."

"That's..."

"Fucked up?" Chris laughed. "I know. Believe me, I wasn't as put together back then as I am now. I was scared shitless."

"I thought I had it tough when Kathy got pregnant with Maureen and we were barely scraping by."

"Maureen's your oldest?"

"Yeah," Elliot answered. "She's in college. She'll be graduating soon. Kathleen is two years younger, and then we have the twins, Dickie and Elizabeth. They're the same age as Stephen."

"Four, huh? Good for you. We stopped at three. Hell, I never thought I'd be able to handle the one," Chris said honestly.

"Must have been one of the hardest things...I can't even imagine."

"It was so frustrating at first -- not being able to see him smile, or look into his eyes, or even be left alone with him. I felt like a child myself. Then, y'know, it got easier. Eva was there for me, and I began to look past the blindness and see the other important things in my life besides being a cop. Stephen helped me heal the most, I think."

Elliot shook his head, trying to think of how he would have been able to cope with an infant if that had happened to him. He remembered the hard time he and Kathy had just dealing with Maureen, and he couldn't fathom suffering such an injury, much less the end to his policing career. It must have been an incredible blow to Chris.

"Where did you do your tour?" Elliot asked quietly.

"Oh, Baltimore," Chris said, smiling in remembrance. "The wild and wooly Western. I wouldn't have traded it for the world, though. I loved it and still miss the beat."

"What do you do now?"

"I stuck around as a 'po-lice' for a while in the medical section, playing receptionist. But eventually I moved on to working for the cop union, making sure those of us who were wounded in the line of duty get proper medical care. Lots of phone calls to bitchy medical insurance reps. Not as exciting as busting heads," Chris laughed.

"I don't know what I would do if I couldn't be a cop."

"You'd find a way. Just like you'll find a way to get through the divorce."

"That's part of the reason why I'm here tonight, doing the undercover." Elliot sighed deeply.

"You're going to need the overtime for the alimony and child support, right?"

"More like it takes my mind off the empty house."

"Why is the house empty?" Chris asked. "I thought you said you weren't divorced yet."

"We've been separated for almost a year and a half. She moved out."

"And she took the kids?"

"Yeah, and it's killin' me," Elliot said angrily, crossing his arms. "Without the kids I can't stand to be around the cheeriness and good tidings. Christmas is all bullshit to me now."

"It sounds like it.," Chris said, frowning. "I can hear it in your voice."

"She didn't talk to me. She just left a shitty message on the answering machine telling me that she wasn't sure when she'd see me. She didn't even ask to work out a schedule or something! It was just a cold, impersonal message telling me I wouldn't be seeing my own damn kids for Christmas."

"What are you going to do?"

"What _can_ I do?" Elliot asked.

"Call. Tell her how you're feeling."

Elliot shook his head. "She's made her position clear."

Chris inclined his head toward Elliot. "So you'd rather be passive-aggressive and stew over a perceived slight instead of sucking it up for your kids? You afraid to tell her how you feel? C'mon."

"I...I'm not..."

"Yes, you are. Let me guess -- you're standing there with your arms crossed and a scowl on your face just thinking about it, am I right?"

Elliot raised an eyebrow and uncrossed his arms. "No."

"Liar," Chris grinned. "I don't even need to look at you to know you don't want to pick up that phone and tell her how much you're hurting."

When Elliot didn't answer, Chris moved closer to him on the wall.

"It takes a lot for a man to admit he's actually in pain, Elliot."

"I know," Elliot agreed.

"It took me a long time to figure it out, too. I was angry -- filled with rage over what had happened. Our first Christmas with Stephen was hard because I couldn't tell Eva how helpless and, well...worthless I felt being a father."

Chris's words stung Elliot. They were echoing his thoughts from earlier that night. "It wasn't your fault you were blinded."

"No, but it was my fault for not asking for help when I needed it. I chose to keep the pain and anger inside, and it was ruining me."

"What did you do?" Elliot asked quietly.

"Accepted it. I didn't die, and it wasn't doing Stephen or my family any good wishing I had. I sat down one night and just spilled my guts to Eva about how I felt, about everything that was going on inside my head. It was one of the hardest things I've ever done, but I thank God every day I did. I wouldn't be the father I am now, and I wouldn't have been brave enough to have Trev or Jeremy. And Eva was wise enough to know that simply talking to her wasn't enough -- I had to seek professional help." Chris smiled. "That was even harder. But I did it. I found out the only way to heal is to admit you're hurting in the first place."

Elliot looked over at Chris's sons, all blonde-haired and blue-eyed like their father. Their loud conversation and laughter echoed across the sales floor, allowing Elliot to catch the sounds of their playful giggles. Watching the boys and then glancing back at their father, it occurred to Elliot exactly how lucky he really was. Despite the bumps and bruises of his relationship with Kathy, they were still his kids, and he loved them more than anything in his life. He loved them more than the stupid arguments he was having with Kathy. Thoughts of them were what kept him going after a particularly hard case. He beamed with pride when he talked to colleagues about them. He couldn't let something so precious pass him by because of a phone call.

Chris was right.

He felt hurt and angry over not seeing the kids. He was turning the pain within -- the things he saw in work, the stress over the divorce -- bottling it up and holding onto it until it bubbled and festered into a rage. He didn't want that. He didn't want his feelings to become so rank and hollow that it turned him into a monster. He didn't want his babies to fear him or hate him the way he did his own father.

He wanted Christmas back.

Elliot exhaled a deep breath before he spoke, making sure Chris couldn't hear the emotion in his voice.

"Admitting you're hurting...that's the hardest part?"

Chris nodded. "Everything gets better from there."

Elliot then noticed a slight blonde woman walk up to the three boys. She bent down to see what they were doing, laughing and hugging each of them in turn.

When Elliot turned back to Chris, he was grinning. "Sounds like the cavalry is here."

"Yeah."

Chris reached into his coat pocket and flipped open a white, telescoping cane with a red, balled tip. Before he walked back to his family, Chris touched Elliot on the arm.

"Christmas is a time for healing, Elliot. It's about peace, joy, and love. Don't let anger take you from your kids."

With that, he went to join his family. As Elliot watched, the boys clustered around him, all of them talking at once, making Chris break into a loud, cheerful chuckle. Eva put her arm around him, and the five of them walked out of sight.

Leaning back against the wall, Elliot smiled wistfully at the reunion. It made him think of Christmas mornings in the past, the girls and Dickie running around the tree and tearing open their gifts with squeals of excitement. He and Kathy would sit on the couch holding cups of coffee, bleary-eyed and dazed, yet caught up in the feeling.

God, he missed them.

Reaching into his coat, he found his cell phone and hit the speed dial.

When she answered, he could hear the kids in the background. He wondered if Kathy would put colored lights on the tree the way Elizabeth liked. He thought about how Maureen was the one who always wanted to hand out the gifts. He remembered the way Dickie would patiently open every single one of his presents in his stocking first, before moving on to the larger packages. He hoped Kathleen was the one who got to place the star on top of the tree, the way she did every year.

He cleared his throat before he spoke.

"Merry Christmas, Kath."

 


End file.
